Meathead
written by:
Jeanie

There was a reason I had moved to Naples, Florida but I hadn't revealed it to anyone. I am a Daddy's girl and I told my family that I liked the small town flavor of the area, but that was only a fragment of the truth. I was caged ambition in sheep's clothing, and the people there were going to help me along on my journey. It's not that well known that there is a part of Naples where one may rub elbows with the wealth and power of the country. Many winter there on the Gulf of Mexico and some of their influential friends pass through from time to time. I saw the potential to tap into this treasure trove for lofty reasons. I was on a mission.

My father had said offhandedly at a State Dinner in Tallahassee that there would be a Florida legislative seat up for grabs pretty soon. Old "Stoney" Blackstone was due to hang up his spurs in a year or two and maybe take up fishing. If that happened, you couldn't really blame the guy. Two heart attacks and having a man's wife of 35 years passing away can take the starch out of any man. Within weeks I had moved to the district to begin fulfilling the requirements to qualify for residency.

I had worked under Papa's campaign manager for the past few years so I was plugged into the workings behind the scenes that came with the give and take of business as usual. I came to realize I had some real issues with the way politics was run in my state, serious issues. I had seen backroom deals made that tore at my soul and I had a flood of ideas on how to do things differently. There was only one way to accomplish such an idealistic goal; put your name on the voters box, yet in my situation there was a catch.

When Papa came to visit me at the Beach Club, we were on the Number 4 tee when I hinted that I was becoming more interested in politics, and that maybe I would put out feelers in the event I wanted to run for office. He had laughed, "Sweetheart, I don't want to hurt your feelings but I doubt if people would take you seriously. We don't need angels in office, we need tigers!" My face turned red and the subject changed. I was terribly disappointed that I wouldn't have his support and I didn't bring it up again, but the idea still festered wildly in my mind. My own father really didn't know me. I'd have to go it alone.

These days with the internet, it didn't much matter where one lived in my line of work. My grandfather had left me a tidy sum when he had passed-on back when I was still in school and I was digging into this reserve to set myself up among the elite. I had one really good card to play. I relied heavily on my father's name to attain initial recognition.

That may sound iffy to lean on someone else's merit, but I remembered a slogan of my grandfather, Joel. ‘If you have the right tool in the toolbox, even if you have to borrow it, use it for the job at hand. Just don't damage it in the process.' He was a politician, too. The family name opened doors to the other required stepping stones. One had to live in the right place, wear the proper clothes, join the appropriate clubs, and above all, hobnob with benefactors. Without large donors behind me, any political aspirations were simply folly. I had to know all of these people for down the road. I also would have to work twice as hard as anyone else because I had a flaw, which Papa never let me forget.

I had been told I had a baby face ever since I went through puberty. And my voice was that of a little girl, high pitched and squeaky. Every morning when I looked in the mirror at my reflection, what I saw was ‘wholesome'. That's what some meathead football player that I had had a crush on in college had said when I asked him to a sorority function. He didn't want anything to do with me. He wanted bad girls, wild girls. I was the kind of girl a guy ended up marrying.

I admit to being very naive at times, and I get shocked pretty easily. A friend said I was always in awe of things, too innocent. I couldn't much work on those weaknesses, but I could keep myself fit and trim. There was a weightlifter gal at the gym that had made me uncomfortable in the shower by saying I had a ‘bangin' body, and I had thanked her. But I got out of there fast because some people made me a little uneasy. I knew she meant it as a compliment, I just wasn't sure what the term implied.

My daily routine was to catch up on paperwork in the mornings, then try to arrange lunch dates at the Beach Club to get my name spread around. While there I could possibly meet visiting A-listers, maybe have a game of tennis with an older member, and after five when the monied folks began drifting homeward, I'd jump out onto the golf course for a fast nine holes. The open fairways were where I could think.

Today I had accomplished little. Not much was going on at the Miami or Orlando offices and the new mechanic shop had noticed there was rust showing itself underneath my car. "You have to use the car washes that spray the undercarriage because of the salt spray." Nobody had been available at lunch and the courts were filled with young trust-funders in the afternoon. The young ones didn't care much about the public good, I've found. Why was I so different? I was a young trust-funder.

I hit the vacant golf links later than usual and so far had had a lackluster round. When I double-boogied Number Eight, I knew I would have to be on the top of game for the last hole. It would totally screw up my otherwise boring day to have a crappy round. Number nine was a short par three and I had a pretty stiff breeze coming sideways at me off of the Gulf, so a long high ball just wouldn't be wise. Even then a shot to the green would be difficult.

While I was getting ready to tee off, through the twilight I noticed a man sitting on a bench off of the far green near the clubhouse. His physique caused me to smile because it reminded me of the meathead football player from back in my school days, the most confident guy I had ever met. I really had no inkling of what I was going to do after college but Parker already had his way in life all mapped out. I didn't know what to make of it but maybe that was one of the things that had attracted me to him.

He once confided in me when we were both Freshman and partners in a Statistics lab that he had aspirations to become the quarterback of the University football team. Parker said he would take over running the team by his third year and during his senior year he would be getting offers from the Professional teams. The Pros would pay him the big dollars and after four or five years with them he would have the money to quit and go into public service. He wasn't sure at the time what that would be, but it would come to him. It was all clear as day.

My three iron drive was low and straight, and not affected by the wind. It hit once and scooted right through the sand trap. The ball then zipped up the incline to loft a bit before bouncing to a stop on the green about twenty feet from the hole. Not too dog-gone bad. ...Parker had been a dick. It took me weeks to muster up the courage to invite him out, even though I knew him pretty well from a number of my business classes. His rep was that he was going through the girls of his class with lightening speed.

"You have to be kidding me, Rach. You know the kind of girls I go out with. The Party girls. Some are easy, some are dirty, and some are just plain nasty girls. Maybe in ten years, but right now I'm not going to get tied up with anyone, and that's the kind of girl you are. One date and I would be out of my element. Let's just be friends", he had said. ...That's why he was a dick.

I carried my own golf bag and as I walked down the center of the short fairway, I realized the tall rugged looking guy in a baseball cap had stood up and was walking out onto the green to hold the pin. It truly was Parker, and I couldn't have been more flabbergasted. As I approached my ball, he said, "The grass is damp. The green will be slow." My mind was racing and my putt barely covered any ground towards the cup. I couldn't look at him. My face was in flames. My next putt didn't do much better. So I got mad.

I picked up the ball, put my hands on my hips and asked, "What in the heck are you doing here?"

His big cocky grin exposed all of those super white teeth of his, and the gaudy Superbowl ring on his hand was so huge that no one within a mile could miss it. His shitty Georgia drawl rolled off of his lips like sirup. "Nice to see you, too, darlin'."

Maybe if he hadn't become the quarterback like he had predicted, maybe if he hadn't been the hero of the whole damn southern part of the country by winning the Heisman, maybe if he hadn't held out his hand to slap mine everytime we passed in the hallway, maybe if he hadn't gone on to become a Pro and dazzle the entire National Football League, maybe if he hadn't been on one TV commercial after the other beaming right into everyone's living room, maybe if his PQ800 exercise clubs hadn't been built from sea to shining sea, maybe if he had to struggle just a little through life, maybe then I wouldn't be so angry with him. "Don't come any closer to me."

"Heard you were here, so I looked you up."

"How on earth did you ever find me?", I asked.

"Had to hire one hell of an expensive detective to locate your bony ass. I didn't know you used a phony name in school. Damn, but don't you look good. Are those your boobs? I don't remember them being so..."

"My father was a big shot with the War on Terror. It was a family safety thing. You never took the time to know me well enough to find that out. ...So what is the reason for you to go out of your way like this?" I was irrationally annoyed with him.

"It's time. I told you I would come get you in ten years but I came a little early, just in case you might want to enjoy the razzmatazz of Pro football for a year or two before I quit. It's kinda fun."

I said, "That's crazy. You are in your prime. Five more years and you will be in every record book there is. It's a terrible time to quit. ...And what gives you the idea that I am in any way interested in you? You just can't walk into my life like that. Anyway, I have a nice guy I'm seeing. You really tick me off."

"Put a cork in it. So I know how to throw a football. I can see a hole to run through. Is that really important? I need something that says I am accomplishing something. So I finally located you and the detective digs deeper and gives me the nitty gritty on what the hell you are up to. That's when I knew what I was going to do with my life. You and me together, we are going to go a long way. I looked at all the info and it struck me that you have positioned yourself to be in politics. You always said you liked it. Wasn't that your minor? I've got some dough packed away and with my business sense and name recognition, together with your brains, the sky is the limit. You were always the smartest person I knew, much smarter than me. I look back at every girl I have ever met and you were always at the top; ambitious, warm, honest, modest, frilly, clear headed, forthright, funny, driven. I even liked the way you dressed. ...Sometimes I talk to you when no one else is around, like you are in the room. ‘Hey Rach, do you know what just happened?'"

Parker laughed, "When it comes to politics, it's no different than being in high school. Sorry to say, most of our voters chose by personality, color or cool, and not by experience. All we have to do is give you so much cool that you will be their princess. Done deal. ...I think of the rug rats we are gonna breed. Little Rachels and little Parkers. They are going to be so proud of their mama. ...Governor Rachel Quick. It kind of sends chills, doesn't it? You will kick their asses, you know. The competition will look at you as this Grace Kelly, pretty little thing and have low expectations of you. They have no idea how smart you are, how quick. They can't get past the beauty. But you and I know. You will run over them like a galldanged steamroller, knock ‘em down like bowling pins. First, lets look at the Mayor's race. A pretty weak field from what I understand. Let's say one term or less until that Stone guy is out of the running. I figure 6 years in the State Legislature after that to show what you can really do, eight years as Governor, and then a run at the US Congress, and I'll be right behind you the whole way. Who knows after that. You are going to make a difference!"

"How many damned concussions have you had? You have gone off of your friggin' rocker. "

He wasn't phased in the least by what I had to say. It was like he hadn't even heard me. He said, "I hear they have an ‘old town' here called Tin City. Any good restaurants?"

The guy was so arrogant, so know-it-all. His chest was shaped like a barrel. I said, "Coffee only. Dinner would be some kind of commitment, and I am not going to be committed in any way to you."

It was getting dark fast and I had to hurry to get my clubs to the caddy shack before it closed. ...What do you do with a guy like that? What a dick.

He followed me in his rental up Gulf Shore Drive. The sportscar he was tooling around in had those too bright blue headlights which were so annoying in your rearview mirror. On the spur of the moment, I pulled into a small parking area. There was a short walking pier there and maybe it had the power to put me in a better mood. ...Everyone in the Pro Shop of the Club made such a big deal out of Parker. All he had to do was grin and the ladies would swoon and the men would stutter and fawn. People came running to meet him. A ninety year old woman with flashing jewels had even asked to feel his muscles. It took forever for us to get out of there. I had faked my smiles pretty good, but please excuse me while I barf.

The lot was almost full and I grabbed Parker by the hand to tug him up a narrow walkway. The wind had died and the weather was perfect. It was a short stroll to the pier up ahead. He said, "It is really dark here. I can't see my hand in front of my face.

"Hang on to me", I said. "I'm still angry with you." We walked onto the wood flooring of the pier and one could sense more than see couples along the handrails on both sides. Others were talking in whispers or low voices while the stars twinkled overhead in a black sky. There was no moon. We reached the end of the pier and by good fortune there was a gap along the handrail that faced out towards the Gulf. Parker stood behind me and I pulled his hands to wrap them around my waist. Even the waves were only murmuring.

There are certain places you want to experience only when it can be shared with a special person. I once had the opportunity to see the young men diving off of the cliffs in Mexico but I would have been with my Papa. The cliffs had a romantic place in my mind and I wanted to reserve it until I could see them with my lover, whoever that was going to be. Silly, huh? I was pretty young at the time.

In a similar vein, I had not allowed myself to be lured to the pier after having seen it in the daylight because I wanted to wait. ...So what did I do? I showed Parker my special place. Why would I do that?

I just barely recognized the profile of the woman next to me in the gloom. She and her friend were at the corner of the pier's handrail. "Randy, is that you?" Randy met me every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for a fat-free muffin after Pilate Class. A very talented artist for her age, she had a growing reputation and a small gallery downtown. I envied her for her focus and she could laugh in the face of adversity. The world be damned, she was going to do her thing.

Randy laughed under her breath. "Hey Babe." I continued to hear her breathe a few times, and then she gasped quietly.

I couldn't believe it. I moved my lips to her ear, "Are you doing it right here?"

"What a glorious evening", she said.

I stared at her mesmerized. Her man was inside of her, right out here in pubic. My chest tightened and I couldn't take my eyes away from her.

My hands reached back and pulled Parker closer by his hips. He reacted by leaning into my ear. "You forgot I was coming, didn't you? I told you that I would, a couple of times. I know I did."

"I thought you were just teasing me. I haven't heard you say one word about love."

"That is implied. Duh. Do I need to get your attention by hitting you over the head with a club?"

Randy was making tiny groans and breathing deep, trying to hide her participation. After about ten minutes of that, I felt a call to action.

My hands behind me, I groped Parker through his pants and he jumped from the unexpected intimacy. The people on our left were talking about their new mortgage rate.

"Rachel", he scolded.

"Shush." I pulled my skirt up in the back and hooked my free thumb though the elastic of my panties to pull them lower. It took some awkwardness to get Parker's zipper down but I soon had him warm and hard in my hand. I rubbed him on my entrance and I was sloppy wet. I leaned forward and with a tug he was in. My head came back so I could whisper into his ear. "I want you to smell like me."

I could feel him growing even bigger down there. It was wonderful. He barely moved himself so as to not draw attention, but his arms went all the way around my waist to have total control over me. His hips gently rocked side to side and after a time there were fluids tickling my legs. I placed my elbows on the handrail and said to Randy just inches away, "Glorious is right."

The four of us stood there for quite awhile locked in separate embrace as we stared out to sea. We could feel the shuffling of other couples coming and going. I could also see Randy was grinning at me. "You bad girl", she whispered. "Can you hide us?"

It only took a few moments for me to understand what she was talking about. She slowly turned to face her lover and then lowered herself to take him in her mouth. My jaw dropped open until I caught myself. I would have never thought to do something like that. Never. I moved closer to shield them and was only inches away from the man's genitals.

I didn't miss one trick of Randy's mouth. My legs shook and Parker seemed to grind into me harder. Small orgasms zinged through my body every half minute or so, like turning the lights on and off. Randy's head twisted slowly in every direction as she enjoyed him, the man's face a blur in my eyes. I must have been in my own reverie for awhile as Parker was sliding his hands on me everywhere, crushing my breasts. After a time the man next to me shivered and I heard Randy gulp in her throat, once, twice, three times. She turned her head to see me watching and winked her eye with her mouth still full of her man's sex.

Everything was in slow motion as Randy wiped her face with the back of her hand and adjusted his pants. Her body rose and there was a period where she was adjusting her own clothes. When she was through and had let out a relaxed sigh, I moved closer to say, "Our turn. Let's trade places."

Parker was confused as we moved towards the corner but I put my finger on his lips. During the sideways shuffle, he didn't want to come out of me until he picked up on the idea of what I was going to do to him. I knew he was caught off guard, but he was loving it. When I finally pulled him into my mouth, I imitated what I had seen. I could feel the heat of Randy's face so close to me that I almost laughed. She was the one with her elbows on the rail and her head looking down to eyeball the action, and I showed off to her. I had loved this big dumb guy all of my adult life and this was the first time that I could demonstrate how I felt. I took my time, a long thrilling time.

I somehow understood that oral sex and silence were almost mutually exclusive the way I wanted to do it. A slip of the mouth with a break in the suction and everyone within hearing distance would know what was going on. Instead I used only my tongue, lips and fingertips to stimulate him. My eyes seemed to roll back in my head and I could have pleasured him for hours. When his time came, he tried to pull away. I was ready for him and his legs began to shake. I locked my hands on his rock hard butt and let the spurts of his ejaculate slide down my throat. I counted them, and then licked my lips in triumph. ...I was now his dirty girl.

The four of us gave up our positions on the handrail and walked down the pier towards our cars. The guys had finally compared notes and figured out what was going on while Randy and I couldn't stop giggling. Everything was hilarious to both she and I at that point. Even more so for myself. It came to me that I had just made heart wrenching love to my man after years of separation, yet I hadn't even kissed him first. That had to be naughty in anyone's book.

Parker and I said our goodbyes to Randy and her man and then my meathead football player stood over my car and said, "I have 19 hours before my plane and we have to come up with a plan. From this point on, you are in ‘running' mode. There is a brunch tomorrow at your Club that we were invited to. Meet and greet, Baby. Meet and greet. Monday night there is a game in Dallas. I'll arrange the flights and tickets. Wear your hair up for the game with the high collared lace shirt and the broach. It's so classy. I'll make sure they pick you out of the crowd and you will be on National TV as my serious babe. Think of it as a coming out party. They will make a really big deal of it. I've never had a girlfriend to a game before. I will give them background details beforehand and there will be interviews. The public will be more interested in you than the score of the game. Next, no more fibs. You aren't seeing anyone so that's not going to come up again, okay? And listen to me about this. I know about the rich and famous stuff. Always remember, there are cameras everywhere. To stay squeaky clean, we are going to have to keep all the sex indoors, no matter how much you are used to doing it otherwise. In your case, kinky does not go well with the public when mixed with politics. Now, where can we go eat? Hot women make me really hungry."

...Like I said. He is a dick sometimes.